The Call to Turn On

There are moments—cultural, communal, individual—when a window opens. A rare availability, 
a shift, a widening. And when it does, we either enter, or we hesitate and watch it close. This is one of those moments. The question is: will we step in?

For women, the work of our time is about increasing our currency.
the currency that has always been ours, the one that moves beneath
the surface, beneath the constraints of duty and expectation, beneath the false notions that power is something we must barter for, beg for, or steal.

Our currency is our sexual energy. Not in the narrow, flattened way it’s been reduced to—something transactional, something to be managed, something to be ashamed of or contort for approval. No, our sexual energy is the very current that runs through us, the flow of aliveness, of connection, of creation. And the work—our real work—is to make it a daily practice.

Because here’s the thing: we already have it. There is no lack. There is no withholding force keeping us from it. Are we in it, or are we outside of it? Do we stand in the slipstream, feeling the full flow of power move through us, or do we contract, contort, look away? 

The habit of scarcity has been drilled into us—this idea that we must grasp,
that we must trade, 
that we must be chosen. But that is the great illusion.
The truth is, we are the ones who generate, we are the ones who circulate, we are the ones who sustain.

And yet, we are afraid of what would happen if we actually
lived from that place, if we actually admitted that our desire—our naked,
unmediated, uncategorized desire—is the most potent force we have. 

Because the moment we do, we are no longer waiting.
No longer hooked. No longer caught in the fantasy that someone or something else will complete the equation. When we stand in our power, we become undeniable.

But power is not a static thing.
It is not something we attain and then possess. It is a movement, a practice, a state of being. It is something we cultivate, something we return to, something we stabilize.

This is why it must be daily. Not just when we feel good, not just when conditions are right, but every single day—when we are tired, when we are uncertain, when the world tells us to shrink. We practice because we refuse to live any other way.

And as we do, we begin to see differently.
We see that the things we once envied, judged, or desired were simply signposts pointing us
back to our own longing. Because we all always know. We always have.

And when we step into that 
knowing, we begin to circulate. We begin to nourish. We begin to send energy through the mycelium network of womanhood—not as a sacrifice, not as a depletion, but as an overflow. 

We begin to move with equanimity, with the simple understanding that abundance moves where we allow it.
That a turned-on woman 
turns on the world.

So here is the call. A practice. A discipline.
A devotion. Not for someone else. Not for a reward. But because this is what it 
means to be truly alive. Because this is the work of our time. Because this is what we were born for.